Gang War Truce : Santa Ana Factions Stop Fighting to Meet for Weekly Peace Talks

It was shortly after 1 p.m. Saturday when young men started spilling into Delhi Park, jumping over the wire fence, strolling across the play lot toward the basketball court where another group of young men were playing.

They were members of different gangs, but the park, usually considered Delhi Aces turf, was treated as neutral territory for a day.

“The word’s been around that they’re trying to stop violence,” said a trim, dark-haired young man who spoke for the Little Brook gang. “You can’t make everybody listen. But we’re willing to give it a shot. It’s better than killing each other, like it’s been.”

Within two hours, almost 200 young men, representing eight different gangs from Santa Ana, Westminster and Orange, had converged. Since January, gang members have been meeting weekly to face each other and to speak out against drive-by shootings that injure innocent people along with gang combatants.

The first meeting drew only three gangs--the Delhi Aces, F-Troop and Santa Anita--but each week, the numbers have been growing.

“These drive-by shootings, there are too many of them,” said Hooks, 27, an F-Troop member who has a ring of barbed wired tattooed around his neck. “I’ve been in the neighborhood 15 years. I’ve lost too many friends. I can’t keep count.”

According to several of the young men, the idea for the meetings started among rival gang members in prison who became friends and were concerned about their families and relatives outside. News of the meetings spread through those who were released from prison and through young women who sometimes dated men from different gangs.

The gang members gathered Saturday had short, trim haircuts and were dressed in white shirts or plain sweat shirts, with jeans or khaki pants. Most of them were in their late teens and 20s, but some were as young as 14.

Tattoos covered many of their arms, necks and chests--elaborate drawings of pin-up girls, gang insignias and the names of sweethearts. As they approached their own gangs, they paid respect to the senior members, shaking their hands, then tapping their fists.

They huddled in distinct groups, along the basketball court, beside the baseball field or on the grass. The only place members from different gangs intermingled was on the handball court.

One player, who belonged to F-Troop, wore a sweat shirt with the words “In Memory of Ernesto and Sammy,” in honor of Ernesto Sanudo Mendez and Sammy Porras, two Santa Ana men who were gunned down by passing gunfire in El Salvador Park last weekend.

Around 3 p.m., two men suddenly began moving toward the center of the park. They jumped atop a yellow picnic table and the young men gathered around them.

Mike, 39, a large, bearded man, asked the different gangs to identify themselves.

“People ask us who our leaders are, but we’re all doing this,” he told them. “We all combined together and took it upon ourselves to stop all this madness. We can’t stop violence, but we’re going to stop the drive-by shootings.”

Pete, an older man who described himself as having spent most of his life in prison, mentioned the shootings last weekend in El Salvador Park.

“Whoever did that, that’s a coward--buying a car and shooting someone,” he said. “If you shoot someone like that, they don’t know who did it.”

The young men listened intently as Pete warned them of the life that awaited them in prison.

“When you’re locked up, you can’t go in the yard except for maybe once or twice a week,” he said. “They give you a tiny toothbrush, and you don’t even get a real cup, just Styrofoam. They bring you food like a dog, and it’s already cold and there are flies all over it. If you have a wife, you gotta talk on the phone. You might as well be dead.”

“Out here is where it is,” he said. “In there, ain’t nothing happening. You guys are fighting a losing battle. All this . . . isn’t necessary. Whatever difference you have, settle it another way. Think about it and tell your friends, nephews.”

The meeting wrapped up after they agreed to meet again next week.

“A lot of older people are afraid to sit in their front yard and enjoy a beer,” said Sal, 40, whose face and arms were covered with scabs from when he jumped into rose bushes to avoid gunfire from a car passing in front of his house. “We got to do something.”

“There will always be violence. It’s to defend your neighborhood,” Hooks said. “But this is just to do things right. It makes me feel good to be here. We are all the same people, Chicanos.”

“It’s a start,” said Emilio Moreno, who runs an anti-gang program out of Victory Outreach Church and who came to observe the meeting. “It indicates that everyone’s talking. You hear about gang members being monsters, but they’re human beings like everyone else.”